


Step for Step, Breath for Breath

by Rachaelizame



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8556244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachaelizame/pseuds/Rachaelizame
Summary: A Cardassian processes memory differently than a human. When he remembers something, he almost seems to be experiencing it all over again. This can be fortunate. Or it can be a curse. AU.My writing for the DS9 reverse bang. Based on summerartist's drawing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a link to the art this piece is based on. I kind of twisted the prompt a little. I made the picture into a memory. http://ds9reversebang.tumblr.com/post/151400696426/by-summerartist-for-the-ds9reversebang

“Garak!” Julian laughed. “You're deliberately missing the point. Dystopian novels were supposed to be over dramatic and unbelievable.”

“I find that hard to believe.” 

“They weren’t meant to present a realistic society. They were meant to exaggerate some flaw the author saw in their own society to a ridiculous degree, to showcase how bad it could be.”

“Ah, but there’s the problem with that method. If people don’t already see those flaws, then who’s to say they’re a flaw at all?”

“Well, because it might be a flaw they don’t personally experience.” 

“I suppose you have a point there. It all depends on your perspective. After all, I can see the deep flaws in the Federation’s style of government, while you remain woefully optimistic.”

“Ah, of course you’d bring it around to that. As if you don’t have an equally large blind spot when it comes to Cardassia.”

“But you see, that brings me back to my point. These flaws you claim to see in Cardassian society, aren’t flaws at all. Perhaps they could be, if circumstances were different, but circumstances are what they are, and the Cardassian style of government works well under those circumstances.”

“I could say the same thing about the Federation! And who’s to say- oh, now we’re just going around in circles.” Julian glanced at a clock on the wall. “Oh! I need to get back to the infirmary. Bye, Garak!" 

Garak sighed, stood up, and pushed the memory away.

-

It started like this.

Garak was sitting at breakfast with Odo, when the constable cleared his “throat” uncomfortably. For all his lack of actually owning the appendage, he managed that remarkably well.

“Have you noticed anything… strange about Dr. Bashir recently?”

 _Of course I have._ Garak didn’t say, pulling on a look of contemplation.

“You know, now that you mention it, I have.” Garak had initially believed the change in Julian’s attitude to be due to his recent string of medical conferences, but after breaking into Julian’s personal logs, he no longer believed that to be the case. It was always possible he simply hadn’t mentioned any trouble, but the way he spoke didn’t seem to be hiding anything- and Garak could always tell when Julian was hiding something.

Odo cleared his throat again.

“The senior staff has put together a theory. We believe he’s been replaced by a Changeling.”

Now there was an option Garak hadn’t considered, though now that it was brought up, he felt foolish for ignoring it.

“I see. That would line up with his recent behavior.”

“Yes. It’s a disturbing thought, but I’m afraid I have yet more troubling news.” Odo’s frown deepened. “I know how close you two are, and I regret having to inform you of this, but we’ve discussed it and feel it’s right to bring you into this.”

“Please, Odo, you don’t enjoy speaking these pleasantries, and I don’t want to hear them. What’s happened to Dr. Bashir?”

“We found a pool of his blood in an unused storage room on the runabout he took to his last conference. There was no body, but the amount of blood is… disturbing. Nurse Jabara tells us it’s near to the maximum amount a human can survive losing, and unless he got immediate medical care or extremely lucky, his odds of survival are low.”

Garak nods as though they are still having an everyday conversation. He’d expected this, really, he had. Ever since Odo told him Julian had been taken by the Dominion, he’d thought this would be the outcome. Hadn’t the female Changeling told him they hadn’t taken any prisoners during Tain’s attack on their planet? If not then, why now?

“I truly am sorry, Garak. I know you two are involved, and I’ve seen the distress you humanoids go through at such an occurrence.” Odo looks deeply uncomfortable, but he trudges on for the sake of his friend? acquaintance? Whichever. “I wanted you to know that.”

“Thank you Constable. I appreciate your words, but I just remembered an appointment I have scheduled. I apologize for cutting our meal short.” Garak doesn’t exactly remember standing and walking back to his shop, which would normally be quite worrying, but he can’t seem to think past a block in his mind consisting of the words _Julian is dead_.

-

When he got back to his quarters that evening, he settled onto the couch quietly. From this angle he could see something wedged under the chair across from him. He got up and pulled it out, seeing it was a shirt Julian had worn over a few weeks before.

He stood up slowly, not noticing how tightly he was gripping the shirt. He almost began to cradle it, before realizing how foolish that would be and tossing it to the laundry, where it belonged.

As he thought that, he realized how ingrained in his life Julian had become. He’d gotten used to throwing a few pieces from Julian’s closet through with his own laundry, because it was too much effort to try and convince Julian to take them back himself. Julian had things scattered about the bathroom that Garak had simply decided to get used to, rather than go through a whole melodrama with Julian about how inconvenient it was to go back to his own rooms every time he stayed over.

Every time Julian had inched his way closer, Garak had chalked his agreement up to convience. Saying it was just easier to let him in a few inches every once in a while than to constantly be pushing back against him. He hadn’t realized just how those inches had added up until now. All of a sudden it sunk in that Julian would never make it another inch farther. There was no point to throwing that shirt through the laundry because it would never be worn again. Those lunches that had become more and more the bright spot of his life here ended right here and now. He wasn’t sure he could bear to give them up yet.

-

“There was this interesting saying in the early twenty first century. ‘Representation matters.’ It stuck around for nearly the whole century. For all that era’s flaws, it was the time when they truly started to include people of every group in different types of literature. It makes for a really fascinating viewpoint of the stories that come out of the time.”

They’ve moved past arguing and now Julian is simply rambling about Earth’s twenty first century literature. He’d become very interested in it after a certain trip with the rest of the senior staff. Garak still couldn’t get the full story out of Julian, but he’d picked up bits and pieces. From his best guess, Julian had been looking for anything redeemable about that century, and seemed to find it in literature. It made it oh so fun to argue with him about it.

Garak somewhat wished that was what they were doing now, but he so enjoyed seeing Julian rambling about topic he enjoyed. He’d give him a few more minutes to do so, before telling him what he thought about this era’s ‘literature.’

-

There was a pressure in his chest that he resolutely ignored. It wouldn’t do to show weakness. He was able to keep it contained until he went into his bedroom that night. The second he crossed the threshold, he was reminded of everything, the completeness of Julian, and the pressure tightened to the point that he couldn't quite breathe.

He went through his nightly routine methodically, taking all his effort to keep away from a reaction that would be rather unbecoming. He could feel a scream of rage and grief desperate to escape his threat, but he wouldn't let it. He wouldn't make a sound until he was certain no one would overhear.

He quickly checked the room over for anything that might allow someone to overhear. He noticed with a quiet gratitude that Odo’s one listening device he had not yet removed had been disabled for tonight.

It had taken several and varying techniques to keep from an unfortunate outburst over the course of the day. He could only imagine how it would be to try and remain calm for an entire day on the station, but that was tomorrow's problem. For now, he let go of the tight rein held on his grief and cried.

-

More than one customer left Garak’s shop the next day miffed by his quick temper. He normally kept so calm, yet today, for no discernible reason, he was snappish, annoyed, mean. Many had seen this side of him, if only briefly, but they couldn't imagine what would cause him to lose control of that side of him on such an ordinary day.

He seemed to hold himself tighter than usual, and he was moving slowly, as if every motion hurt, but that didn't make sense. What could possibly be hurting him? It would be weeks before the general public learned of the reason.

Once the truth came out, people were more sympathetic to Garak’s change in attitude, which only infuriated him. He could do without their pity. But despite his thoughts on the matter, hushed voices whispered rumors to each other, wondering if, as they all had suspected, the relationship between the tailor and doctor was deeper than it seemed.

Annoyed customers were reminded that he had just lost a loved one, and Garak's tried to rein in his anger, if only to avoid seeing the pitying looks of his customers.

-

“I know, I know. They’re children’s books. Not exactly our usual fare. But this is from the renaissance of children’s literature. They produced amazing stories, and since they were often in series, if you read more than one, it’s like reading a full adult novel anyway.”

“It’s not the length I’m worried about, Doctor. It’s the quality. Children’s books simply aren’t written for an older audience, and I fail to see what I would gain by reading simple parables about what’s right and wrong.”

“Well if you read them, you’d realize they are more than that. Children can understand surprisingly complex topics, and these authors wrote to challenge them. They may start out a bit simplistic, but as you get further, there are more and more shades of grey.”

“I suppose that, as you have yet to turn down any Cardassian novels- quite commendable. In fact I was certain you wouldn’t make it through quite a few novels that you seemed to understand enough. Well, enough considering you’re human.”

“Garak!” Julian’s tone was usually light, but there seemed a bit of tension in his voice that Garak hadn’t anticipated. “Get on with it!”

“Well, as I was saying, as you have yet to turn down one of my novels, I suppose I can make it through these, though I can’t imagine what horrifically upbeat lessons you insist on forcing on children.”

“Well we can talk about how ‘horrifically upbeat’ it really is when you’ve finished a couple books.”

-

The new Starfleet doctor arrived quickly once the Changeling realized he'd been discovered. She was a pretty, young woman, actually friends with Julian from Starfleet Med school and later from their work on a project together.

She tried to relate to the senior staff, often chiming in when information came up that Julian had mentioned to her, but the reminder was awkward for everyone, and she soon sought friends elsewhere, though she remained friendly enough with the senior staff.

Garak had seen her standing outside his shop for a few days now, hovering more accurately, and guessed at what she wanted to say to him. So when she finally resolved herself to walk in and talk to him, he was prepared.

“I just wanted to say, Julian sent me letters sometimes, and the way he always talked about you… Well. He really loved you.”

Garak nearly cringed at her words, the reminder still too sharp, but he nodded briefly, forcing a genial smile.

“I was aware, thank you. Now, unless you need a change of wardrobe, I’m afraid I have to get back to work.”

She frowned at his brevity, but nodded at him, one arm stretched out as if to comfort him. It hovered for a moment, unsure where to land, before returning to her side awkwardly.

“I just- I’m sorry.” She turned and left before he could decide whether to keep up the harmless tailor act or show some teeth.

She avoided him from there on out.

-

When Garak was asked to translate a coded message, it was the first time he’d seen the senior staff in weeks. They had mostly kept their distance, something Garak appreciated, but now they all seemed compelled to express their sympathy in some way. He did his best to avoid them while working out the code.

It was one he recognized- of course it was, he helped create it. The next day, he stole a runabout and headed for the signal’s origin.

When he arrived, he ended up ushered into a barracks and toward Tain, who, somewhat predictably, chastised him for his poor rescue attempt. Garak was about to respond when a Romulan woman spoke up.

“They’re releasing him from solitary!”

“Who?” Garak asked, wondering about this new potential ally.

“A friend.” was the response from the Klingon- Martok, Garak believed his name was. Thinking only of escape, he was therefore shocked when a familiar face came through the doorway.

_Julian_

He didn't mean to breathe out the name, but he found himself doing it anyway. He turned to the Romulan woman. He needed to confirm this was real.

“How long has this man been here?”

“Six weeks,” she said. That did line up with how long Julian had been missing. Julian gave a rueful smile.

“Hello, Garak. I imagine this must be quite a surprise, I know they sent a Changeling to replace-” Before he could finish, Garak stalked over to him, gripping him by the arms, and leant their foreheads together. They had done this a few times before, but Garak was reluctant to show such trust, even to Julian, who he knew would never hurt him.

He knew Tain would see the gesture, and at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. He would deal with his reaction when it came up, at the moment, he simply needed to be near Julian. Julian's eyes had gone wide when Garak initiated the contact, but now he'd closed them and moved his arms up to grasp Garak's sides.

“So, I'm guessing the Changeling wasn't very convincing?” Julian supposed. He couldn't imagine any other reason why Garak would have responded this way.

“No, my darling. They were not.”

-

“Even if her work wasn't such an obvious copy of those that came before her, it would still be terrible!”

They were arguing about a novel Garak wasn't particularly fond of, but he would pretend to be, if only because arguing with Julian was tradition. Oh and what a lovely tradition it was. Something made Julian pause, and he reached across the table to set his hand above Garak's. Julian smiled at him fondly.

“I'm sorry."

“My dear, I hardly blame you for being taken prisoner by the Dominion.”

“I know. That's not what I'm apologizing for. I left you alone. I never wanted to do that.”

“Ah, well we don't always get what we want, do we?”

“I suppose. Though this was far more than a want.”

“No harm was done, Doctor.” Julian gives him a knowing look, but changes the subject.

“Well, I’m just glad they didn’t get rid of all my things!” As Julian had only been declared missing in action, his property was kept in storage for the weeks he’d been gone.

 _I’m just glad you’re alive._ Garak found himself thinking, though he certainly wasn’t going to say it aloud.

“On the contrary my dear. I was quite hoping to lose some of your wardrobe.”

“Oh, but if that had happened, I’d have lost Kukalaka, and that would make me sad. You don’t want me to be sad either.”

“No my dear,” Garak admitted. “I don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Julian survived because of his genetic enhancements and his ability to control his bodily functions.  
> 2\. Twofold thanks to brinnaza. One for setting this up in the first place, two for allowing me to use her headcanon regarding forehead touches. see more info here: http://brinnanza.tumblr.com/post/146652573051/early-morning-headcanon-corner-re-the-forehead


End file.
